


I Have Loved the Stars Too Dearly

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [60]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), F/M, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22991494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: "I've wanted to work with computers since I was a kid, but computers just - go wrong - when I do anything with them. This job's fun, and I can do it, but it isn't what I love." Newton gazed mournfully into his empty glass."Know the feeling," Crowley said.Oneshot
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Newton Pulsifer, Crowley & Warlock Dowling
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [60]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 39
Kudos: 1258
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	I Have Loved the Stars Too Dearly

Anathema had invited them out for a drink. Crowley had eyed the slippery-looking mud on the path, checked with Warlock and Aziraphale, and counter-offered by inviting her and Newton in. And now he was sitting here with Warlock curled against his side (his good side because, even wine-drowsy, Warlock knew better than to lean against his bad leg) watching Aziraphale and Anathema diving deep into discussion of some book or other. Something about witchfinders and prophecies, from the little he could make out. The only consolation was that Newton looked as lost as Crowley felt.

He draped an arm more securely over Warlock and asked Newton by way of making conversation, "So, you said what a re-enactor does. I don't think you mentioned how you wound up doing it. Care to elaborate?"

Newton shrugged. "I'd just lost another job doing what I wanted, and I needed something to do, and someone showed me this advert." He blinked slowly, drank a little more wine. "I was a witchfinder first of all, an' Anathema helped me research, because her answer - ancesty - person way back in her family - was famously burned at the stake as a witch. Then I got to be other things."

"What was it you were wanting to do?" Crowley asked idly.

"I've wanted to work with computers since I was a kid, but computers just - go wrong - when I do anything with them. This job's fun, and I can do it, but it isn't what I love." Newton gazed mournfully into his empty glass.

"Know the feeling," Crowley said, shifting to ease his leg. He stretched out a long arm and retrieved the bottle in order to offer a refill.

Newton's head came up and he stared. "You do?"

"I've always loved the stars." Crowley tipped his head back as if he could look up through the ceiling and see them. "But Astronomy requires abilities I don't have, and I've always been fond of gardens, so I compromised on Botany. It's not a bad subject, but like you said, it isn't what I love."

"What does Astronomy require that you don't have?"

Crowley grimaced and shifted his leg again. "The ability to stand around in dark fields all night staring through telescopes, for one."

"'M'sorry. Didn't mean to pry."

"S'fine. I'm quite capable of telling folk to shut up if I don't want to hear something." Crowley's jaw clenched as Newton's stare dropped to his bad leg. "Or answer something for that matter."

"Do you want to talk about it, or about something else?"

"It's a long story, involving a rather brutal Fall and a tree I wasn't supposed to be anywhere near. I prefer not to talk about it."

"Ok." Newton blinked as he thought. "Did you see that wildlife program the other day?"

Crowley settled back into the sofa. "Remind me about it," he said, and let Newton ramble about dolphins and orcas and seals.

***

Anathema surfaced from her deep discussion of the Book with Aziraphale and looked round. Anthony was on the other sofa, arm round his godchild, head tilted on one side, clearly listening to Newton's animated speech on sea creatures. For his part, Newton looked happy that someone was paying such attention to him, face both flushed and lit up, wine glass forgotten beside him.

Anthony's godchild was curled against him, somehow both clingy, and yet slack with alcohol and drowsiness, as if they expected him to vanish at any moment and were determined to hold on. It struck Anathema suddenly, how much older Anthony and Aziraphale were.

She asked, worried, "Does it bother you, that we're so much younger?"

Aziraphale smiled gently, and laid a hand on her arm. "My dear," he said simply, "we're accustomed to it. There aren't many people of our type and age around. We don't socialise with the students, but as long as you're on the teaching side of things, and good company, we've no problem at all. Do you?"

"No, not at all."


End file.
